Earth (13 page)

“I haven’t seen them, honey,” she said a
little confused. “But here, I’ll seat you and they can join you
when they get here.” She was already walking away from me before I
could protest. I knew all those waiting people wouldn’t understand
why some teenager got a table so quickly. But I kept quiet; I have
learned there’s really no arguing with Grandmothers. “Here you go,
sweetie.” She beamed at me and hurried away. She had sat me in a
back booth, giving the illusion that I had gone to meet someone
instead of cutting ahead of all of those waiting people.

I pulled out my phone and didn’t see any
missed calls so I called my voicemail and heard the automated voice
tell me that I had two messages, which I knew meant two
cancellations. Great.

“Hey, babe,” I heard Jodi say through a
cough. “I got sick at that stupid game last night! I don’t,” she
coughed again, “damnit! I don’t know why they don’t let the girls
wear pants in that stupid uniform!” She had made the mistake of
yelling in her frustration and went straight into a hacking and
coughing fit. Instinctively I recoiled from the phone as if she
could contaminate me through the speaker. “Anyway, sorry, kiss
Steven for me. Jay’s coming over and we’re gonna watch movies. Call
me tomorrow and make sure I didn’t die.” Message deleted.

The next message started and I heard Steven
yelling in Spanish to someone in the background before speaking
into the phone. “Sorry babe. God…” he sighed and was using his
annoyed voice. “So my mom says I don’t spend enough time with the
family and since every freaking one of them is still here I have to
stay too.” I could almost hear him roll his eyes. “So anyway, kiss
Jodi for me and call me tomorrow.” Great.

If I got up and left now it would be totally
insulting. The bus boy brought me a water and coke and smiled shyly
and rushed away. I didn’t really have a problem eating alone, but I
hated being cancelled on last minute. Guess I should have checked
my phone before I came in. Go me.

Good thing I’m always prepared. I pulled my
journal out of my purse and started writing. Inspiration hit as I
thought of this morning and Alexis and I found myself writing a
poem based on my spell. I ordered the chicken dish I almost always
ordered and went back to the page, trying to block out all the
voices around me. As I finished the last two lines, I heard very
similar voices float back to me over the din of the restaurant.
Curiosity got the best of me and I looked up at the booth in front
of me and realized, just a second too late, that I was looking at
the back of Jensen’s head. I could see the slightly larger outline
of Ian on the opposite side of the booth.

“I’m done talking about this,” Ian’s voice
sounded very much like a growl. “You better listen to me. We had an
agreement; we’re not changing things now. It’s too damn late.” He
stood up, not waiting for a response, and stormed out of the
restaurant.

“More garlic bread, Shayna dear?” Grandma
asked brightly, a steaming basket in her hand. My whole face
contracted into a tight mask, holding my breath, hoping I wasn’t as
red faced as I felt. I looked up and saw that Jensen had turned in
his seat at the sound of my name.

“Oh, no, that’s--”

“We’d love some.” My stomach dropped as
Jensen slid smoothly into the bench across from me, flashing a
smile at Grandma.

“Oh, are you joining Shay?” She asked.

“Well, since we’re both alone, I figure that
gives you an extra table.”

“Thank you, dear.” She set the basket down
and winked at me a little too obviously before turning away to go
back into the kitchen.

“So we meet again,” he said. I looked up at
him and saw just how pleased he seemed to be with himself, even
after an argument with his brother.

“Yes, we must stop running into each other
like this. Really, we must,” I said.

“Now, now, is that any way to talk to your
boyfriend?”

“What?” The couple behind me choked on their
wine at my outburst. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. I leaned
over the table a little and whispered angrily, “What are you
talking about?”

“Oh come on, the whole school’s talking about
it.” He was really enjoying this.

“What?”

“How we’re dating now.”

“We’re not dating,” I protested.

Just then our waiter set our food down in
front of us. “Oh no, we’re not together.” I tried to explain but
Grandma had already sat a couple at the booth Jensen had been
sitting at, filling the restaurant again. “What is happening to
today!” I asked the ceiling, slumping down in the booth.

“Hmm, very interesting…” I looked at him and
saw that he had picked up my journal and was thumbing through
it.

“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded as
I snatched it away.

“That must be a replacement; it isn’t much of
a grimoire.” The word floored me; not many people knew it.

“It’s just a journal,” I said as I held the
book protectively against my chest. He was smirking at me, one
eyebrow raised. It dawned on me; I shouldn’t know what a grimoire
was either. A grimoire, or a book of shadows, was a witch’s spell
book, basically. You write spells, thoughts, anything it in, but
its main purpose is a spell book. I chose to ignore the slip.

“Doesn’t look like just a journal.” It almost
sounded like a question.

“Ok.”

“And there’s that witty repartee that I’ve
come to enjoy so much.” He smiled again, picking up his fork and
starting to twine his spaghetti. I had lost my appetite. He took a
large bite and stared at me while he chewed; no one looks good
while they chew.

“Ok,” he said, wiping his mouth on his
napkin. “Obviously I’ve done something to offend you. I would like
the opportunity to correct that, but you have to tell me what
exactly it is that I did that upset you so much.” He pushed his
plate away and folded his hands on top of the table, looking at me
expectantly. It was very difficult to remain cold and silent when
he set those baby blues on you.

“Well…” I hesitated; did I really want to
have this conversation? If I didn’t, would he continue to pester me
until I did? Yes. “Look, you just, I don’t know…” I looked around
the restaurant like the words were hidden in the walls and I could
find them. “You just creeped me out that first day. You know, first
impressions are the strongest.” I shrugged at the end, hoping I’d
said enough to drive him off. He really was too distracting for me
right now.

“And not to mention I saw what you did in the
parking lot, or at least what you started to do and that pissed you
off.” He said it so calmly; he was challenging me to deny what we
both know he saw.

“What? That I happened to see my friend being
abused by her boyfriend and was about to intervene when your
brother showed up to handle things? So?” I was very impressed with
how controlled both my breathing and voice were.

“How did you know to come running just
then?”

“What?”

“You weren’t anywhere around and all of a
sudden you came running out into the parking lot and then stopped
suddenly and started doing something to the ground.” My mouth went
dry.

“I could hear Nick yelling.” I was staring
him straight in the eye; I didn’t want to give him any reason to
say I was lying.

“Look,” he lowered his voice and leaned over
the edge of the table towards me. “You can say you didn’t do what
we both know you did all you want. You knew something was happening
to Tracy. You couldn’t have heard Nick from your locker and you did
something
to the ground but stopped when Ian showed up.”

“Fine, maybe I did know something was
happening to Tracy. She’s a friend of mine, we all knew what that
asshole was doing to her, and I just had a gut feeling something
was happening. Call it women’s intuition.” Sometimes the truth is
best and that was pretty much the truth after all.

“Fine. But why are you refusing to answer me
about the ground?” He narrowed his eyes at me, all the blue of his
iris concentrating on the gray in the middle.

“Maybe because I don’t know what you’re
talking about.” I was gripping my glass now, directing all of my
pent up energy into it. Not really a bright idea.

“Lying does not become you.” He sat up
straight again, smoothing out his light gray sweater over his
stomach. “You cracked the asphalt for Christ’s sake.”

“You do realize we live in Southern
California right?” I had a sarcastic edge to my voice. “Parking
lots around here are littered with cracks and potholes. We have
these funny little things called earthquakes, get them all the
time.”

“You know I don’t believe you.”

“Ok.” I said and he grinned, but I could tell
he was trying not to.

“You’re not going to answer for that, are
you?”

“Why should I? I answered your question about
Tracy, but have you explained why you glared at me like a freak
that first day?” Tit for tat. He took a deep breath in through his
nose. His chest rose with the effort, holding it in for longer than
normal before finally sighing and nodding.

“You’re right, I’m not playing fair. But,” he
held up a finger, inclining his head slightly, “I really don’t
think you’ll admit to it if I tell you why.”

“So?”

“I don’t like people reading me without my
permission,” he said straight and to the point with a flat
voice.

“What are you talking about?” As if I didn’t
know.

“You have very good control, I’ll give you
that, at least when you’re not upset, but you practically glow with
power and I don’t appreciate people
reading
me without my
permission.” He stressed the word this time, daring me to make him
explain with so many people in close proximity, not that anyone
could hear us in the crowded restaurant.

“And when I am upset?” I wasn’t going to give
him this yet; I wanted to see if he really did know what he was
talking about first.

“Well, I’ve taken to carrying antacids with
me at school. Not really something most seventeen-year-olds should
have to worry about.”

“Your stomach issues are not my fault,” I
said flatly.

“When I’m around you and you’re upset and
projecting, yes they are.” He was very sure of what he said. I was
going to make him put it in plain English before I conceded this
very important fact.

“I’m still not sure what you’re talking
about.” I realized I had melted all of the ice in my glass.

“I hope you’re not trying to insult my
intelligence,” he said. I gave him a small smile and tilted my head
to the side, waiting patiently like he had. The silence stretched
between us, becoming thicker, almost tangible like a rope
connecting us across a deep ravine that he wanted to pull me
into.

I was very aware of his breathing pattern and
the rise and fall of his chest, the color rising just under his
ears and the perfect right angles of his cheekbones. I could cut my
wrists on those cheekbones. “Ok, fine, have it your way then,” he
said, a hint of sadness behind the words.

“I haven’t decided whether or not you have an
uncanny awareness of other’s emotions, or if you are affected by
them and can affect others, or maybe—as I fear—you feed on them,”
he said that last with a true hint of fear in his voice.

“Feed on other’s emotions?” That concept
bothered me; it sounded dangerous, evil maybe. I had a sour taste
in my mouth. He didn’t say anything, not even a nod of his head. “I
don’t like the sound of that.” I pushed my glass away from me and
brought my hands down to my lap. “I don’t do that.”

“All right.” He gave the smallest of nods
and, although I couldn’t feel the relief from him, his eyes did
brighten a little. “I have a feeling you are waiting to tell me
which of the other two are correct.”

“Very intuitive of you.” The busboy came
around just then. Grandma knew to leave us alone when we came in,
knowing we’d get up to pay when we were done. I shot the busboy a
look and
sent
to him to go away and it worked. It worked
like it should but didn’t work on Jensen.

“Well?” He prompted after the busboy scurried
off. “What is the question you have for me before you’ll answer
mine?” Too intuitive.

“How do you keep me from reading you?” He had
used the term so I felt safe enough using it too.

“You really don’t know?”

“I have my guesses,” I paused, “now anyway.”
As soon as this conversation took a turn for the worse, I knew my
secrets were out on display for him because I must be sitting
across from a kindred spirit or enemy. Either way, he had secrets
he was keeping that were just as important as mine. He was blocking
me intentionally and I knew that now.

“It’s a type of shield.” It was a simple
answer, probably cryptic to some, but I understood what shields
were. Most people would think of them as invisible force fields
like you see in Sci-fi movies, which is pretty much what they are,
except they aren’t created electronically.

“A pretty strong one then,” I said. My
shields and the ones Jodi and Steven had protected us from evil
influences, like protective little bubbles keeping unwanted
entities and negative energy away from us. I hadn’t known anyone
who was able to create a shield that made them an emotionless void
to the world.

“I’ve been working on it for a long time.” He
suddenly looked tired, sad almost.

“I’ve only ever seen shields that keep
negativity away and could make you less noticeable to people, not
like what you’re doing.”

“Sometimes you need to protect against more
than just energy.” I had the feeling he wanted to tell me
something, but didn’t yet feel like it was safe enough. His eyes
were suddenly hard again as he fixed them on mine, holding me in
his stare. “Now, your turn again.”

“I’m an Empath,” I said simply, deciding
there wasn’t much harm in telling him this. It wasn’t necessarily a
magical ability; many people have the ability to be attuned to
other people’s feelings and had an inherent ability to calm or
comfort. Good mothers and doctors can do it and no one thinks twice
about it. But that really doesn’t do my ability justice.